I drift in thought again as I look out the home office window. I send my wife a text while she is at work. “… odd seeing daffodils and green grass with heavy snow fall mid-April ….”

For decades we have been feeding corn and seeds to the local white-tailed deer that live in an ever decreasing amount of free land near our house. They have flourished here for many, many years. I used to think they would be here long after I die. I fear now that they will soon be forced out or killed and will no longer stop by in the spring after giving birth to their young. Each generation bringing their new-born to our picnic tables. We recognize familiar ones and watch them grow: then disappear.

We have witnessed within the span of a generation urban sprawl and light pollution making stars all but invisible. My new grandson will probably have to travel many miles as a man to see constellations light up the night sky. So few in his generation will actually see the Milky Way – from Earth.

So much beauty and wonder reduced to vague dreams or myths heard only in old folk’s tales. How many wonderful things will will soon be gone forever? Maybe worse; people will not even know what has been lost.